Legacy
by Haerdalas
Summary: 100 years ago, one of the last riders fell at the hands of the Forsworn. now the damaged remains of his dragon's eldunari have been found, and it's wild magic has caused a large change on a certain Rider. eventual S/E rating/genre may change HIATUS sorry
1. To Save A Dragon

**Legacy**

**A/N: this is my first ever story, so please excuse any small mistakes I may have made. Any reviews are appreciated, especially if they contain constructive criticism. I know my writing isn't perfect, so any indications of how to improve it are always welcome. However, flames are unneeded and unwanted.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own the Inheritance Cycle; otherwise I wouldn't be posting this on ****would I?**

**Chapter 1**

100 years ago

Aidan Kormsson, one of the last of the great dragon riders of old, ran, tears streaming unashamedly down his face. The thin branches of the bushes on either side of the thin woodland path stung as he hurtled away from the sounds of the battle behind him. He was clutching something roughly spherical under his right arm which he kept glancing at as if to make sure it was still safe.

His armour, though of fine make, was covered with grime and blood, with several large dents. His helmet was gone, thrown aside in his mad rush. His whole body ached, and his left arm hung limply by his side. It was dislocated, and the jarring caused by Aidan's movement sent continuous extreme pain to his head. Aidan, however, did not care about the pain. His injuries had been sustained fighting against the Forsworn. Tears appeared in his eyes as he thought of the events that had caused them.

**Flashback**

He, along with six others, had volunteered to fight a delaying action against the traitorous Forsworn, trying to buy time for the citizens of the city of Illirea to evacuate. Only four of the traitor-riders had been seen at that point, so the small force of loyal riders had had high hopes of at the very least bringing an end to _some_ of the Dragon Rider order's greatest enemies.

These hopes, however, had been destroyed when the Forsworn had proved to be even more powerful than expected. Reports from the few survivors of previous skirmishes had indicated that the traitors had strength far above average, even for a rider; however Aidan had still not anticipated the slaughter that had come to pass.

Adala had been the first to fall, screaming out in agony as the red blade of Morzan, first of the Forsworn, sliced cleanly through her armour and biting deep into her side before flicking out and up across her throat. Her red dragon had quickly followed her into the void.

Next to fall had been Kalun. Aidan had been friends with Kalun for years, ever since their training together on the island of Vroengard. Aidan had watched, horrified, as his friend was overcome by the combined magic of two of the traitors, a large bolt of shimmering purple lightening breaking through his wards and smiting him in the head, gore and bone flying in every direction as his head was obliterated by the powerful blast. His green dragon had fought on in a blind rage over the death of his beloved rider, before he too fell before the dark magic of the Forsworn.

Another rider, whom Aidan did not know the name of, had fallen quickly after. Morzan's red dragon literally ripping the wings off of his brown dragon before finishing the dragon off with a quick bite to the throat, and knocking the rider, nearly paralysed with pain coming through his bond to his dragon, off of his dragon and leaving him to fall to the forest floor far below them. Normally this would not have posed too much of a problem to a rider, as even without their dragons they could easily have used magic to slow their fall to a non-lethal velocity. However, immediately after losing their bonded dragon, the emotional turmoil often proved too much, rendering them incapable of magic. So it was in this case, Aidan wincing and averting his gaze from the doomed man's fall.

At this point the three remaining riders, including Aidan, had realised that they stood no chance. They had started to retreat, with this retreat soon turning into a mad rush towards the main remaining force of the dragon-riders left in Alagaesia. Aidan had been at the back of the fleeing trio, and he could still hear the screams and roars of his dragon as the Forsworn had caught up to him, knocked Aidan flying off of his dragon, Cain, before getting to work on finishing Cain off. The pain that had come through their mental bond from the bites Cain had received was nearly enough to cripple Aidan as he fell but, somehow, he had managed to cast the spell that slowed his fall. He had looked up just in time to see Cain, _his dragon_, being hit by a swing of the large muscular tail of a forsworn dragon. It hit Cain's neck with a sickening crunch and Cain silently dropped from the skies.

"_No! It can't be! Cain!"_ Aidan had screamed through their dying bond.

"_Goodbye, Aidan."_ Was the only reply he had received.

Aidan had immediately set of, running towards where he thought his dragon had gone down. Turning a corner he had come face to face with his dragon again. Numerous cuts, gashes and rents on his once impenetrable black hide glistened with blood. It was obvious that he was far too badly injured for a lone rider to be able to save, perhaps a team of healers could have done something, but the sheer number of wounds made any efforts Aidan could have tried useless.

"_Cain!" _Called Aidan again, hoping that there was something, ANYTHING that could be done to save his dying dragon. Then he remembered about the dragon's eldunari. Cain had never disgorged his eldunari, so it still remained within him. It was his only chance, but his consciousness could not flee there after death unless the eldunari had left the body prior to death.

"_Cain, please, can you still hear me!" _Called Aidan desperately

"_Yes… just." _Came the weak response.

"_Cain, you can still survive this if you disgorge your eldunari." _There was no response.

"_Please Cain! I can't go on without you, don't leave me here alone."_ Aidan called again, his head bowed and tears streaming freely down his face. Finally, a response came.

"_I will try, for you." _Suddenly the great black dragon stirred, his head rising as he gazed with bleary eyes upon his rider. A shudder arched along his back and waves of pain hit him from all over his battered body. Aidan also felt his pain through their bond, and he nearly fell to the ground as it overwhelmed him. Seeing this, Cain weakened their bond – he did not want to cause his rider additional pain – and set to work.

Five minutes later, it was all over. Aidan had had to give Cain a large amount of his energy just in order to keep him alive long enough to complete the process. Now, though, Cain's body lay lifeless on the ground. Aidan, however, was now clutching a large black sphere protectively. It was an eldunari. More specifically, it was Cain's eldunari. Making sure that his hold on it was secure – dropping it would be a disaster – Aidan started to run, tears still streaming down his face at the loss of three more riders and the loss of his dragon's body.

**End Flashback**

The battle had taken place about forty miles away from the city of Illirea. It was going to be a very long walk back. Two miles away from the site where Cain had gone down, Aidan finally ceased his running and collapsed, exhausted by both the physical and mental exertion of the last few hours. He could still sense Cain, hidden within the eldunari he carried, but he had sunk down deep into his new home, and Aidan found it currently impossible to talk to him. Even though he found this frustrating, Aidan knew that eventually Cain would could out of his seclusion, and then, even though things would never be the same as they were before, both would know the happiness of the others mental company once more.

Suddenly, from back the way he had come, Aidan heard a rustling of leaves and the snapping of a twig. He tensed immediately. He had run quickly and for a long time, so it was extremely unlikely that he had been followed, but still, _you can never be too careful_, he thought, drawing his sword with his right hand – even though he was normally a left-handed swordsman, his left arm was still badly injured from his fall, and though it still had enough dexterity to hold an object, it would be a challenge to fight using it - and using his left arm, though it hurt him to do so, to cradle the black stone that was Cain's eldunari to his chest.

After staring down the thin path he had come along for several minutes, and having neither seen nor heard any more indications of being followed, he relaxed. _Must have been a wild animal_ he thought absently to himself as he went to sheath his sword. Just as his hand left the hilt of his sword, he heard another noise, this time coming from the opposite direction, behind him. Before he had a chance to react, a yellow blade came through his back and exploded from his chest. _Damn, _He thought as he felt his life slipping away from him. Then he noticed something else. The yellow blade, obviously belonging to one of the Forsworn who had been following him, had not only pieced him, but had also stuck something else. _No!_ Silently screamed Aidan as he saw that the yellow blade had not only gone through his own body, but had also struck Cain's eldunari. The sword slid back out of the crack it had made in the eldunari of his most trusted friend of all, Cain, as it was withdrawn from his body.

Upon the removal of the sword, Aidan fell to the ground, never to rise. He had fallen on his side, Cain having landed beside him. The black glow that the eldunari had been giving off until then was flickering. _No!_ He kept repeating in his mind. He had failed, and all was for naught. On an impulse, he reached out his left hand, upon which lay his Gedwey Ignasia, and laid it upon the damaged eldunari. He could still feel the presence of Cain's consciousness, but it was dim. Mustering the last of him strength, Aidan desperately whispered _waise heill._ Slowly, the cracks in the eldunari started to heal, but suddenly there was a surge of magic from _inside_ the eldunari which knocked Aidan back away from it. The forsworn had already left, confident that this time there was not going to be any survivors. Aidan's eyes slowly closed, and his life ended.

The black eldunari lay there on the grass. Small lightning bolts crackled along its surface. The cracks caused by the forsworn blade had sealed up due to Aidan's magic, however there were now silver lines that stood out from the black background of the eldunari and traced out where the cracks had been.

Inside the eldunari, Cain's mind was in chaos. Much had been destroyed in the first instant of the sword entering the vessel. His mind was fragmenting, with more and more memories disintegrating. Even his emotions were becoming harder to remain in control of. One of the first things to go had been the control of his natural magic. This was what had knocked Aidan away from the eldunari. Cain felt a shred of remorse for having hastened his rider's final moments, before the ability to feel remorse was erased from his mind.

Two hours later, all that remained of the once proud dragon was a small, dull black rock, filled to the brim with barely contained magical energy. All remnants of the mind of Cain had been destroyed.

Over the years, the path that led to the small patch of ground where the damaged eldunari lay fell into disuse. No-one passed by, and the area became overgrown. No-one found the last resting place of one of the last riders and the remains of the eldunari of his loyal dragon for over one hundred years….

**A/N: I am sorry but any updates are likely to be sporadic at best. I will try to update regularly, but the fact is I don't even have access to a word processor very often, and I have to beta everything myself at the moment (which I don't actually mind doing, oddly enough).**


	2. Uncovered

**A/N: dragon colour for Eragon has already been decided. I would offer a virtual cookie for correct guesses, except it'****s kind of easy to guess; at least I think so… **

**For those who don't know, Illirea is the elves' name for Uru'baen****, the black city where Galbatorix lives. **

**Disclaimer: if I owned the inheritance cycle I wouldn't spend my time making non-canon stories. I would instead be sitting in a mansion somewhere, laughing. **

"**Speech"**

_**thoughts**_

"_**mental speech" (Eg rider to dragon or magician to magician using magic.)**_

**Chapter 2**

One week after the battle of Feinster

"_Come on Saphira"_ Eragon called out mentally _"I don't think there is anyone here, let's find somewhere to rest for the night."_ He and Saphira had been ordered to check out an area near the source of the Ramr River, dangerously close to the capital of Uru'baen. Apparently, someone had tipped off Nasuada that Murtagh had been seen in the area recently, alone, without his dragon. Despite the risks, Nasuada had felt that the advantages that could be gained if they found and captured Murtagh outweighed the very small chance of any encounter with the king. If Murtagh was there, they would capture him, and no alert would be raised. If he wasn't there, then that too would not result in any alert.

They had thoroughly searched around the small village they had been told that Murtagh had been seen in. a quick scan with his mind had assured Eragon that he was no longer in the actual village. Even if Murtagh was shielding his mind, Eragon would still have been able to sense his _presence_. There was a small chance that he was somewhere in the surrounding woods, but they were mostly too overgrown to be easily traversed by a lone man on foot. It was extremely difficult to get close enough to the one road that connected the village to the rest of the empire to be able the check if Murtagh was on the trail, and yet still remain far enough away that Saphira would still be mistaken for a bird by anyone that glanced upwards.

After many hours of careful searching, however, Eragon had given it up as a lost cause. Either Murtagh had already left, in which case there was no point in pursuit, or he had never been here in the first place and the informant had been mistaken. Without realising it, they had spent the entire day searching and could not make it back to the Varden by nightfall. This meant that they would have to spend the night somewhere nearby, in the heart of the empire, hoping that no-one had spotted them.

Saphira lazily glided over the forest, looking for a suitable clearing in which to land.

"_Look, over there__ Saphira." _Eragon called _"Do you think it's big enough for you to be comfortable?" _he asked his huge dragon as he took a sip out of his canteen. Her sapphire eyes slowly scanned the clearing below them. It seemed that a large and ancient oak had finally given up and fallen, creating a large clearing as it pulled all the nearby trees with it on its descent.

"_Only if I remove some of those fallen trees. Still, that shouldn't take too long, and I tire of searching for a place to rest.__" _She responded after a few minutes before diving down suddenly, nearly causing Eragon to drop his canteen to the forest floor below.

"_Careful!" _He cautioned.

"_Why should I be?" _came the response as Saphira landed, dust rising from the force of the impact.

Clearing the clearing had taken Saphira the best part of an hour, even with Eragon helping by blasting the trees out of the way with magic. They were far enough away from the main path that even if a magic user happened to pass by, they still shouldn't be able to sense anything from the camp. However, when their tasks were nearing an end, Eragon noticed something. Underneath the fallen trees, there seemed to be the faint outline of a path. However seeing as he would be able to detect anyone who happened across this path, if it was even in use, meant that he was fairly unconcerned.

Wandering over to where Saphira lay, exhausted from the effort of lifting all of those trees, Eragon smiled. This smile was cut short when he tripped of something lying in the undergrowth, just off of the path he had found. Looking back to see what had tripped him, he noticed several long, thin rock pointing upwards towards the sky. He took a step back towards them, mildly curious. Upon closer inspection, he saw the rocks for what they truly were. Bones. Ribs to be precise; they lay in a row, and underneath them, entangled in the undergrowth, lay the rest of the skeleton. Eragon felt queasy as he realised that this had been what had tripped him.

Continuing on his way towards Saphira, he mentioned what he had found. Saphira immediately got up and came over towards the bones.

"_What are you going to do?" _Eragon asked with a slight frown.

"_Nothing, I'm just curious." _Eragon's frown lightened at this and he shrugged and sat down. Looking over, he saw Saphira sniff deeply over the skeleton.

"_Interesting."_ She said

"_What?" _

"_This skeleton is at least one hundred years old, he would have been alive during the fall." _She sniffed again _"There's something else about this corpse I can't quite place… it is very annoying, I hate not knowing something." _She sat down and mused over what the strange smell might be. _"It smells… somehow familiar. Maybe a relative of yours Eragon? No, wait." _Her eyes widened as she realised the truth

"_Eragon!"_ she hissed excitedly _"I've worked out what the smell is!"_ he looked at her expectantly. _"He smells familiar because he was a rider, you tend to smell somewhat different to other people, and I have noticed it before with Oromis. I believe it is to do with being around dragons all the time."_ She rambled on, unaware that Eragon had stopped listening at "he was a rider" and had immediately come running over to get a better look at his predecessor.

He quickly tore away the undergrowth covering the lower skeleton and looked into its eyes. He felt a strange kinship with the fallen rider. _Now that's odd _he thought _feeling kinship with a corpse can't be sane. _He thought to himself, smiling at the thought. Then he noticed that the rider's left arm was flung out, the index finger straight while the rest of the fingers remained clenched. It looked exactly like it was pointing to something in the undergrowth.

Slowly working his way through the undergrowth in the direction pointed, Eragon proceeded to crawl along for about six feet. He tore up a large clump of moss and gaped at what he saw. Lying in front of him, presumably untouched for a hundred years, was a large black Eldunari, with strange silver lines tracing their way along it's surface. Saphira caught his excitement through their rider's bond and came over to see for herself. Poking her head towards it, she sniffed deeply. There was a second of silence, then she sneezed lightly, covering a small patch of grass with a fine spray of dragon snot.

"_Be careful little one, I sense strong magic in this one." S_he cautioned gently.

"_Come on, you know me. I'm always careful!"_ He replied jokingly. Saphira snorted at this, but chose not to comment further.

Taking a deep breath, Eragon reach out to the eldunari with both his arm and his mind. His mind made contact first. Eragon had been expecting to find the mind of a dragon resting in the precious heart of hearts. He had considered the possibility that it might be dormant, after all, it had been stuck on it;s own for a very long time and may have drifted off during this time. However Eragon had certainly not been expecting this. The Dragon's mind, if it could even be called that, was a confusing pool of raw magic, tinged with the faintest hint of instinct. Certainly nothing that hinted at the presence of a sentient being, or indeed any living creature. It did, however, react to his presence in what passed for it's mind, power building up inside of it. All this occurs within seconds, before Eragon's hand had had a chance to touch the stone.

The moment his hand brushed against the cold black stone, the presence inside of it burst through Eragon's mental defences as if they were not there, the sheer power of the attack staggering Eragon, who considered himself fairly powerful at keeping others' minds at bay. He felt the magic contained in the eldunari suddenly start to drain from the stone, and he wondered where it was going. Then he saw a black mist surrounding his outstretched arm and he felt a chill running down his spine as he realised that it was entering him. This sort of thing was completely unheard of, it could do anything to him! Dimly Eragon felt Saphira trying to contact him, but her words were dimmed and distorted, as if heard from underwater. He tried to break off contact with the strange Eldunari, but something held him and prevented him from letting go.

Suddenly, the black mist surrounding his arm disappeared and the force that was holding him also dissipated, the sudden lack of resistance causing him the fall on the his back. Waves of exhaustion fell over him as a new presence in his mind formed from the magic of the eldunari began to use Eragon's magic as well as it's own to fuel some great spell that was beyond his comprehension. The last thing Eragon Shadeslayer saw before darkness overcame his mind was the large sapphire mass of his wonderful dragon standing over him and gazing down with concern.

_This could be interesting_ he thought quietly to himself.

**A/N: Sorry for the wait. i now have a laptop with OpenOffice and it's the summer holidays, so updates should be slightly more frequent now. i will try to get a minimum of one chapter out a week, but no promises. next chapter will have eragon turning into a dragon and (hopefully) a better explanation of events, thouhg that may have to wait until the chapter after**


	3. Unforeseen Consequences

**A/N: Thank you to everyone who reviewed over the last two chapters. I hope to be able to keep the chapters at around 2000 words each, is this enough? Should I make the chapters longer, or stick as it is? In other news, a virtual cookie for whoever can work out what game the chapter title references. It's not hard if you have played the game. I am currently beta-less, and I hope my writing does not suffer too much because of it. I wont be having all of Eragon's transformation in this chapter, as I really don't want to rush it and for reasons I shall explain at the end I don't have time to write all of it now.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Eragon, though I do own all my OCs, although all the ones I have introduced so far are admittedly already dead, with the possible exception of Cain, though he isn't really alive as such any more either. **

**Chapter Three – Unforeseen Consequences**

Saphira was lazily gliding along, looking for prey. In reality, she wasn't that hungry, however it gave her an excuse to fly, which always managed to relax her, and this time it also gave her time to think about her rider and his unknown predicament. Nearly a whole day had passed since Eragon had been knocked out, and Saphira was getting extremely worried. All she new was that upon touching the eldunari, he had frozen rigid, with something blocking all her attempts to communicate with him or to expel the strange presence that had entered his mind. A few seconds later he had keeled over and had not stirred by himself since.

Since Eragon was not responding, it had been up to Saphira to get him somewhere where he could rest undisturbed until he awakened. With this in mind, she had carefully picked him up in her claws and flown as fast as she could to the spine near Woadark Lake. A short distance away from the few roads through the area she had found a large cave. It was closer than the Varden, and it would serve until Eragon was ready.

At first Saphira had merely been concerned about her rider – not many things could so easily brush aside his defences – but after hours had passed she had started to become truly worried. She had tried to stay by his side, however her worry over his condition had made her restless forcing her to temporarily abandon him in order to relax. She only hoped nothing happened to him while she was away, otherwise she could never forgive herself. Even so, every few minutes, her thoughts returns to pondering the fate of her rider. Giving up the attempt to relax as useless, she turned round to return to the cave, the sun setting behind her as she went.

Upon her return, Saphira found her rider writhing around on the floor, contorting himself into impossible shapes. Faced with this unknown and unforeseen problem, panic started to set in. She had been trying to avoid panic all day, but now she couldn't bear it any longer.

"_Eragon!" _She cried out mournfully, moving over to his twisting body and gently holding him still with her front paws. Then the unexpected happened. Eragon lay still, his eyes opened, and he responded.

"_Sa... Saphira?_He whispered so quietly she barely heard him.

"_Eragon!"_ She cried out again, this time joyously _"I was starting to think I had lost you. Never EVER do that to me again, you understand?"_

"_Agreed." _he groaned. _"But what exactly did I do? The last thing I remember was reaching out to touch that eldunari."_

Saphira quickly explained what she could

_hmm, I wonder what exactly happened when I touched that stone. I felt it using all of my energy reserves and also vast amounts of it's own to fuel some sort of magic. That amount of energy doesn't just disappear, it has to have done something. Talking of disappearing..._

"_Saphira, what happened to the eldunari after I... fainted?"_

"_Well, it just seemed to... die. As if the dragon spirit that inhabited the eldunari had gone. It stopped glowing and cracks started to form, five minutes later it had crumbled to dust."_

"_Hmm...well, we don't know what happened and we likely wont ever know, so I think it's best if we get back to the Varden. Knowing Nasuada, she's probably already got Arya to come looking for me."_

Their return to the Varden took most of the remainder of the night, and was mostly uneventful. As they approached the camp outside Feinster (the Varden had been unable to provide barracks for all of their men inside the walls of the damaged city), Saphira decided to announce her presence by breathing a huge fireball into the early morning sky. Even seeing her about to do so, Eragon had too little time to cover his eyes – when Saphira had done such things before, the sudden change from dark night to brilliant light always partially blinded him for up to an hour afterwards – but for some reason the expected disorientation and blindness did not come. He saw the fire straight on, and was not even left with an after-image. Bemused by this strange event and wondering whether it was of importance or not, he had failed to notice that they had landed and were being approached by several people on foot. Finally noticing them, he looked towards them.

Nasuada stood proudly, however concern was clearly etched into her face. Arya stood to her left, her blank expression giving away none of her emotions. To Nasuada's right stood Jormundur a frown being the only indication of any worries he might have had. Surrounding the three on all sides were Nasuada's elite Nighthawk bodyguards, glaring fiercely at everyone, including, to his amusement, Eragon. Eragon dismounted Saphira and walked calmly over to them, looking at Nasuada, his liege lord, as he did so, mentally preparing his explanation. Relief came into Nasuada's eyes as she saw he was unharmed, and Arya's eyes echoed this. Suddenly, Nasuada seemed to almost jump in surprise as she gazed on him. Eragon wondered what the problem was. He looked himself over quickly, but could see nothing out of the ordinary. He was about to dismiss the reaction as unimportant when Nasuada spoke.

"Where have you been? And what on Alagaesia happened to your eyes?" Eragon blinked in confusion. The first question was predictable, but as far as he knew nothing was wrong with his eyes. "It's a long story, but what do you mean about my eyes? There's nothing wrong with them, I can see fine." He replied after a short pause.

"They... well, they... oh, it doesn't matter now, come to Feinster castle and my office and we can talk further on what has happened to you there. Arya, you can come too, Jormundur, you may go." Escorted by her guards, the leader of the Varden and the elves's representative strode of in the direction of her tent, Eragon following along behind. Saphira could not fit through the narrow lanes and city streets they would have to pass through, so she flew directly to the balcony outside the main hall of Feinster castle.

As Eragon walked along, many of the soldiers of the Varden saw him, and some started cheering. However, when he got closer, some started staring into his face with shock and confusion. _Why does everyone keep looking at my eyes in shock? It's getting quite unnerving. _Thought Eragon. First Nasuada notices something, now the rest of the Varden can too.

Apart from the stares, the journey was uneventful. Finally, leaving the Nighthawks behind, they entered Nasuada's office on the third floor of Feinster castle. There was a large oak table in the middle of the room, and behind it stood a large oak chair, the back of which had been inlaid with what looked like garnets. Nasuada took her place on this chair and gestured to a small cluster of chairs on the other side of the room, one of which Arya was already using. Taking one and sitting down, Eragon turned to face his liege lord.

"Tell me then." she said, resting her elbows on the table as she did so "what exactly has happened to delay you?" Eragon quickly ran through the events of the previous two days, paying special attention to the events surrounding the eldunari. He then hesitated slightly, before asking

"What the hell is wrong with my eyes? Why do people keep staring?"

at this point Arya spoke. "Perhaps it would be better just to show you..."

with his permission, Arya sent a picture into Eragon's mind.

"Oh..." he said, stunned.

"Oh..." agreed the two women.

Before his eyes had merely looked like any ordinary elf's eyes. They had been a light brown, and fairly unremarkable, with the exception of the slanting that accompanied all elven eyes. Now however the pupils had gone vertical, like a cat's or some other predator. The other major change was that they were now red. Bright, practically glowing red.

"What the hell is happening to me?"

Two hours had passed since the meeting in Nasuada's office. Eragon was lying down on his bed in the room of the castle assigned to him. Since the meeting the glow had become more noticeable, and Eragon had retreated here to spare himself from the looks of shock and fear – yes fear – that many of the Varden were now sending him. Arya had briefly visited and demanded to know if something had happened that he had not told her. When he had explained that he had said everything he knew, she had quickly left, trying to avoid his gaze. Eragon was feeling truly alone. If it wasn't for Saphira, he probably would have been just as worried about his eyes as everyone else was, but she was able to calm him, saying there had to be an explanation.

Suddenly the door burst open and Angela swept into the room with Solembum the werecat following quickly after. Angela stared at him, especially the eyes ( causing Eragon to frown) and then burst out laughing. Eragon was startled by the unexpected response.

"I see you have not lost your tendency to cause chaos all around you then" she said still laughing, but trying to control herself.

"Come on Angela, no one has any idea of what's happening. It could be dangerous for all we know, it's not a laughing matter" Eragon replied, still frowning. If anyone else had done such an inappropriate thing as laugh he would likely have gotten fairly annoyed. With Angela however, you learnt to make exceptions to _everything_.

"_No-one_ knows? I find that rather insulting. I happen to have an very good idea of what is happening to you, but if your going to suggest that just because no one came and asked me I am as ignorant about it as the rest of you I'm not sure I'll tell you." Eragon just stared, his mouth hanging open slightly.

"You know? You _know? _Tell me for god's sake!" Angela frowned.

"Aren't you supposed to be atheist after your training with the elves?"

"Who cares, just tell me. Please." Angela sighed.

"Fine. If I'm right, the changes occurring to your eyes are just the start. Since I was not privy to the details of your little trip," at this point Angela glared accusingly at Eragon "I cannot be certain, but if I may guess, did you happen to encounter an eldunari. Perhaps one that looked slightly... damaged?" The accuracy of the guess surprised Eragon. Then he remembered that this was Angela. _Anything_ can happen around Angela. He confirmed her guess and briefly summarised the report he had given earlier to Nasuada.

"Alright then, I know what happened. There is one case of this happening before which I read about once. The eldunari you found had been damaged at some point in such a way that the original mind of the dragon whose eldunari it was has long since disappeared. However, the eldunari still had all the subconscious magical energy that all dragons and eldunari have. When you touched it, all of this magic suddenly had an outlet, and so the magic was released in the way that felt most natural to the eldunari, after all, it was effectively running on instincts." Eragon stood there with a confused look, and then spoke. "So what exact effects will this release of magic have on me?" At this Angela hesitated for just a second.

"Eragon"

"Yes?"

"I don't know how to say this but..."

"_What?"_

"You're turning into a dragon. Based on the last time this happened, the transformation should take around five weeks." At this Eragon just sat back with a stunned and disbelieving expression on his face.

"Damn." He said simply.

**A/N: I am going on holiday for two weeks this Monday so I wont be updating for a while. I will still have access to the internet via my Itouch but no word processor I'm afraid. That's why this chapter doesn't have the full transformation like I had planned – I thought it would be better to have something rather than for you to have to wait. I promise I will try to get another chapter up ASAP after the holiday. **

**Racket30**


	4. Change Happens 1

**A/N: I'm back! Sorry for the wait, but I started writing the same day I got back so please don't shout at me. Right, this chapter will be split into two, as it was becoming too much longer than the others so far. it also gives me time to set up a poll on my profile to decide whether Eragon gets to keep his magic after his transformation. Don't worry, even if he does, I will make sure he doesn't become a Gary Stu. Please review everyone, it really does encourage me to write more. Flames are unwelcome, however I don't mind constructive criticism. Those who have spent to time to review already, you have my thanks. **

**Disclaimer: Lets see... I'm writing this on ... does that sound like I own it? No, I own nothing. NOTHING! Except maybe my OC's, but they are all dead already, so really I own nothing. Having to write this on every chapter is getting annoying, and I've only had to do it for 4 chapters! **

**Chapter 4 – Change Happens 1**

"_Eragon"_

"_Yes?"_

"_I don't know how to say this but..."_

"_What?"_

"_You're turning into a dragon. Based on the last time this happened, the transformation should take around five weeks." At this Eragon just sat back with a stunned and disbelieving expression on his face._

"_Damn." He said simply._

A week had passed since Angela's dramatic revelation. Nasuada and Arya had been told, and Islanzadi had been discretely informed but no-one else, even Jormundur, had. Eragon's eyes had progressed further over these first few days, and the pupils were now fully vertical. He could also now see even better than he could with his elven eyes, which was surprising as he had previously thought his sight impossible to improve. His eyes could also take any amount of light now. Instead of hurting or being forced to shut them as any human or even elf would have to in the presence of particularly bright light, his vision would instead temporarily dim slightly, but not so much as to actually prevent him from seeing anything. In addition, Eragon could see clearly even on the darkest of nights, although complete blackness, such as found deep inside caves, was still problematic.

A few other changes had also begun. His skin had begun to harden and darken, which Angela theorised might suggest he was to be a black dragon, although she wasn't sure. Two small lumps had appeared on his back, the beginnings of wings. His teeth had started to lengthen slightly, which caused problems as Eragon's mouth was still the same size, so the oversized teeth forced his mouth into a permanent grimace. His face had also begun to change, subtly becoming somehow more draconian in appearance. Due to these more obvious changes, it had been decided that Saphira would be taking him back to the cave they had rested in after the initial event in order to try to keep this transformation a secret, even from the Varden soldiers.

Eragon had also questioned Angela more thoroughly, however, since this was such a rare event, even her vast and generally unexplainable horde of knowledge did not provide many answers. One thing he had been particularly worried about was whether he would lose his magic. Without him being able to counteract the spellcasting might of Murtagh, even another dragon would not aid their chances much. Eragon had therefore asked if he would lose his magic, but the answer he received had not been particularly informative.

"_Angela..."_

"_Yes?"_

"_Will I be able to use magic after I become a dragon?" She frowned at this_

"_I haven't got a clue."_

"_..."_

"_Well, don't. The only other person ever turned into a dragon couldn't use magic afterwards, but then he hadn't been able to before the change either. All I know is that it doesn't _give_ you magical ability, I don't know whether it would remove such ability if it was already present. You see! This kind of thing is the reason that your transformation is going to be so fascinating! So many unanswered questions. I'm going to enjoy watching this."_

"_No you're not." _

"_And why is that?"_

"_Because you're not coming with us to the cave."_

"_Damn. Then I'll just have to hunt you and this cave down then. The Spine near Kuasta you said?"_

"_..."_

So all this had led to Eragon, less than a week after being told he was to turn into a dragon, riding on Saphira's back towards a cave in the middle of no-where in order to secretly complete this change somewhere safe from prying eyes. Murtagh's prying eyes in particular. As he flew Eragon yawned, exhausted. This was for two main reasons. One, the transformation was taking a lot of his energy and making his feel worn out in general, and two, he had had to get up at three o'clock in the morning in order to slip away before Angela woke up and managed to follow them. Hopefully not even seeing them leave would make following them even harder for the witch, though knowing her meddlesome and interfering habits Eragon wouldn't be at all surprised in she somehow managed to find them anyway.

It had been five days since leaving Feinster and they had been resting in the cave for four of those days. In this short amount of time, the changes to Eragon's body had become even more pronounced. The largest change however was to his skin. It had continued to darken and now the faint outline of scales could be seen. The small lumps on his back which Eragon assumed were the beginning of wings were now quite large, and his skin was starting to stretch uncomfortably over them. Eragon was not looking forwards to the point at which they ripped through his skin, he imagined that that would be quite excessively painful. His enlarged teeth had, thankfully, stopped growing for the moment, however his face was now starting to lengthen into the muzzle of a dragon, and unfortunately at this mid-transformation stage he looked absolutely terrible. His face was currently the kind that could scare little children out of their minds after just a glance.

Eragon was already thankful for his seclusion, he really didn't want to encounter any of his friends while like this. Saphira he didn't mind being here – she didn't think much of human faces anyway, so things could only get better as far as she was concerned. She was also one of the primary reasons that Eragon had yet to go mad. Although the changes didn't hurt, they did sort of itch. That made it difficult to ignore them, and the knowledge of what was happening to him made Eragon queasy. Talking to Saphira was the only thing he could do to take his mind off of the changes. That and the fact that she kept encouraging him with explanations of how she was sure he would love being a dragon, how great being a dragon was, how much she was sure he would enjoy flying on his own wings etc. meant that he was not dreading becoming a dragon as much as he had at first._ After all, _he thought _ I may not have wanted to change species, but if I have to, there are many far worse creatures to be than a dragon. In fact I might even grow to like the change. Maybe._ At that moment his thoughts were interrupted as Saphira landed on the ledge outside the cave with a dull thump, and dropped her latest catch, a large stag, onto the floor. Eragon smiled and walked over. Even if he still refused meat, _she _would enjoy it, so Eragon was content.

A mere twenty miles to the south, a woman was walking along a small game trail through the southern spine. Following a short distance behind her was a small cat. Someone looking closely might have noticed the red eyes that this cat had, but even so, most would not have given the pair that much thought, except perhaps to marvel at the bravery, or possibly stupidity, they showed in trying to traverse the Spine on their own. Only someone with the ability to hear when people are speaking only with their thoughts would have understood why they were truly in the Spine, though if anyone had been listening to the conversation, they probably would have been too busy trying to work out who the second speaker was. After all, the woman and her cat were the only things on the trail, and cats can't talk, can they?

"_Angela?"_

"_Yes?"_

"_Are we there yet?"_

"_No"_

"_How about now?"_

"_NO!"_

"_...Now?"_

"_Your doing this Deliberately aren't you? And for your information, we will be there in about... err..."_

"_Just admit it Angela, you have no idea where they are."_

"_...Fine. Hang on, what do you mean,_ I _don't know where they are. You don't know either."_

"_Yes I do. They are twenty miles to the north of here. I've known exactly where they are for the past two hours." _This was said particularly smugly.

"_And why didn't you think to tell me of this before?"_

"_You didn't ask."_

"_...Damn, I hate it when you do things like this."_

"_Like what?"_

"_Outsmarting me."_

"_You must find it hard to tolerate my presence in that case, seeing as my superior Werecat brain will almost always be able to outsmart you."_

"_...Lets just go."_

Another week had passed, and Eragon was starting to get seriously bored. His skin was now completely covered with scales the colour of night. His eyes had long since become as good as a dragon's, but now his other senses had started catching up as well. His hearing had become exceptional; he could easily hear any animal that came within twenty meters of the cave's entrance. A small nub of bone had also started growing at the base on his spine, he presumed it would turn into a tail in time. The growths on his back that were to become wings had recently become so large as to be a nuisance. They had started to stretch and tear any shirt Eragon put on. At the current rate, he would be running out of them within a week. _Still. _He thought, _it's not as if I could use them after this is it?_

He _ached_ to do something, _anything _to take his mind off of the changes happening to his body, but Saphira was being overprotective as always and refused to let him go out. He could easily sneak out while she was hunting, but didn't for fear of reprisals from the fierce dragoness upon her return. _Talking of hunting, the provisions we took with us will run out tomorrow. So soon I'll have no choice but to consume meat from Saphira's hunts. _Eragon thought grimly _Still, if I am to become a dragon, I suppose I will have to get used to eating meat regularly again, something I thought I would never do again._

"_Well done, I was waiting for you to come to that conclusion for a while now." _Saphira's voice suddenly echoed in his mind as she simultaneously landed outside the cave and came inside to face him.

"_Saphira! What are you doing reading my thoughts?"_

"_Do I need a reason? I am your dragon after all."_

"_No it's just that... oh never mind."_

"_Good."_

"Overgrown Lizard._" _He whispered.

"_I heard that, and you will pay for it." _Eragon gulped at the threat.

"_Would it help if I said sorry?"_

"_No, it wouldn't. Anyway, it can't be long until your digestive tract changes as well. Then you'll have no choice but to eat meat." _

"_..."_

"_don't be like that Eragon... wait, I hear something nearby." _turning around as she said this, she blocked Eragon's view of the outside. Suddenly, she pounced on something. Something which gave a small, but definite, squeak.

"Get off of me you overgrown lizard!" a voice could be heard from underneath Saphira's bulk. Eragon smiled ruefully as he recognised the voice; it seemed that Angela had been even more determined to follow him and view the changes as they occurred than he thought.

"_My apologies Angela, I did not realise it was you." _Saphira said as she released her captive.

"hmm, well, bemore careful next time, ok?" she replied standing up and dusting herself off.

"_Ok."_

"You can be really annoying sometimes Angela, I thought I told you not to come?" Eragon called from his position back in the the cave.

"Yes, I know, it's a skill I have been developing all my life. Well, come out then, I've come all this way to see you and you think you can escape by hiding in a cave. Bah!"

"Talking about hiding, how did you find us? Sure, we didn't hide that well, but "the Spine near Kuasta" is still a pretty big area."

"Ah yes, well as much as I hate to admit it, I had help from Solembum there. He's the one who tracked you down really."

"Great, so that's one more person come to stare at me, is it?"

"Pretty much, yes" Angela admitted.

"You might as well mind somewhere to sit then" Eragon said with a sigh of defeat "Most of the time consists of waiting endlessly. At least no I have someone to talk to"

A gleam appeared in Angela's eyes as he said this, and somehow Eragon knew that he would regret those words n the near future.

**A/N: So, once again sorry for the wait, and I would like to remind you all that there is a poll on my profile as to whether Eragon should keep his magic as a dragon, an I would also like to thank everyone who has reviewed so far again, and ask that anyone who has not done so already please review as well. It might be a small while before a can get another chapter up as I'm going on holiday (yes, again – one with my parents one with friends) and while I have both an internet connection and my laptop, for some strange reason my laptop crashes when I try to access the internet, so I generally rely on my Ipod for internet and my Parent's PC to upload chapters. But I can still write, so I should be able to release another chapter as soon as I get back. Sorry for the long AN. Racket30 **


	5. In Other News

**Ok then, another chapter finally. I know you probably just wanted me to finish of the changes so that Eragon is finally a dragon, but five weeks is a long time, so I feel it is necessary to show how events have passed elsewhere in Alagaesia – after all, Galbatorix is hardly going to just ignore the fact that the greatest obstacle between him and wiping out the Varden seems to have temporarily disappeared is he? Please don't kill me, I shall endeavour to get the second of the transformation chapters done ASAP. Also, this contains the first action scene I have ever written. I hope you don't mind it or the way I have presented Murtagh – I always have thought of him as just an extremely unlucky but basically good guy. I hope the POV changes don't get confusing. I think they are fairly obvious but then I was the one who wrote it. Also, I will be taking the poll on my profile down tomorrow, as the result is rather obvious – so far 9 votes for Eragon to keep his magic, and none at all for him to lose it. **

**Also, i am so sorry for the long wait, but a combination of school, mild depression and other RL factors just killed my will to write. hopefully now that i have started again i will be able to keep going, but i doubt that i will have anywhere near as much free time to write, so updates WILL still be slower than before. Do not worry, I will not abandon this story. for some reason giving up on things like this makes me feel guilty, so I almost always come back.**

**Some good news: this is the longest chapter i have done so far. Just over 3000 words instead of my normal 2000 or so.**

**Disclaimer: the plot for this little fic is mine, all else belongs to Paolini. I merely gently go through the universe he has created and fine-tune it to my personal preferences. **

**Chapter 5 – In Other News...**

Nasuada sighed as she sunk back into the high backed wooden chair. Reports weren't looking good. A patrol had just returned with news that they had caught someone just at the edge of camp who appeared to be trying to slip out unnoticed. Upon sighting the patrol, he had immediately started running, and due to his head start, had managed to escape. There were only two explanations for trying to slip away in the dead of night like this: either the man was a deserter, in itself bad news, as in the past week or so more and more people had been deserting, or, even worse, the man was a spy.

Rumours had been going round for weeks now as to the location of Eragon Shadeslayer and his dragon, and in the past week many had started saying that some terrible fate had met the rider, and these doomsayers had greatly lowered moral. So long had Eragon been gone that many now believed such rumours, which unfortunately Nasuada could do nothing to dispel without revealing exactly what was occurring miles to the north in a cave in the Spine. This low morale was what had led to the many desertions, as quite a few men only felt they had a chance in this war as long as they had a rider on their side. His conspicuous absence would also be glaringly obvious to any of Galbatorix's spies.

After having his mind examined by Du Vangr Gata, it turned out that the man was merely a deserter. Which in some ways was unfortunate – at least if it had been a spy, then Nasuada could have rested with the knowledge that one less of the king's Black Hand were operating in the Varden.

Abcabcabc

Murtagh strode quickly along the halls of the black citadel. He had received urgent summons from the king and he knew well the price of failure, even if that "failure" was merely arriving three minutes later than the king expected. He only hoped that the reason for the summons was something that would put the king in a good mood. Much though he hated having to serve such a man, the endless torture that disobedience brought to both him and his dragon meant that most resistance to the king's orders was now gone. Murtagh had long since realised that since resistance was futile, he may as well try to keep the king in a good mood. He didn't think he could take much more torture.

"_Stop your brooding, there is nothing you can do about our situation which you haven't already done."_

Murtagh smiled slightly at these words. The one ray of hope for him in this situation was his dragon, Thorn. He helped Murtagh whenever he turned to brooding and his thoughts turned dark. Noticing that his speedy pace had already brought him to the throne room doors, Murtagh took a deep breath, braced himself, and entered.

"Welcome Murtagh. Please, take a seat." Galbatorix had an odd look in his eye as he gestured to one of the large oak chairs around the table in front of his throne. Even odder however, was the expression on his face – Galbatorix, the most feared man in Alagaesia, was _smiling._ Murtagh took the chair furthest away from the king. _Well,_ he thought to himself _it seems that whatever the king wants me to do, for now he is in a good mood. At least there is _some _good news._

"One of my spies in the Varden camp" O_h dear, this doesn't sound good _"has reported to me that the troublesome little brat that is the rebel's one-and-only-rider is missing, along with his dragon. Since he is the only one in the entire Varden who stands a chance against you, I think that now would be the perfect time to strike, don't you? " a hard edge had come into the king's voice during those last few words, indicating that it would be a _very_ bad idea to disagree. _Damn, _thought Murtagh, being careful however not to let his thoughts show on his face _I hate having to kill for no reason other than this lunatic's Psychopathic impulses, but what choice do I have?_ With these grim thoughts, he said finally "As you wish, my lord."

"Good. Good." his cheery manner disappearing suddenly until he was glaring at Murtagh.

"Well what are you waiting for then, get your useless lump of a dragon" Murtagh's eyes thinned at the insult "and go and kill them all."

"Yes... my lord."

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A small mounted patrol of four men in the woods just east of the main Varden camp were the first to encounter the enemy. They were just heading back to camp at the end of a six hour patrol. Two experienced soldiers were riding their horses next to each other along the path, chatting leisurely about topics ranging from their kill count in the latest battle to the weather. A grizzled sergeant led the group, keen eyes scanning the path at all times, even in this supposedly safe area. A young recruit, constantly jumping at shadows, trailed the three older men nervously. They all stopped suddenly when they heard a dull thump in the woods ahead of them.

The two rank-and-file soldiers glance at each other. They were not the best men in the Varden, but they had experienced enough to recognise that the sound was not caused by anything that normally inhabited this forest. The recruit was looking everywhere around himself, seemingly at random. The sergeant merely licked his lips and said "It's probably nothing but... Norton, Filger, you're with me. Alistair, you stay here. If we don't return in ten minutes, run back to the Varden and tell them what happened." Saying this, the sergeant and the two soldiers dismounted their horses and started to creep forward in the direction of the sound, leaving the recruit to wait nervously for their return. Five minutes passed, and straining his ears, Alistair the recruit could just hear the sound of raised voices, followed by a short pause, then the sound of steel on steel, then silence. After ten more minutes being rooted to the spot in shock, he turned around and galloped back to the Varden, tears of fear running down his face. No horse in the world, however, would have enabled him to get back before a flying dragon however.

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Murtagh stared at the bodies of the three men he had just killed. _What a waste. _Wrong _place wrong time. Damn, I'm sorry, I was only stopping for a few seconds as well, I'm so sorry._ He looked up into the sad eyes of his dragon. "_Lets just get this nightmare over with."_ He said as he mounted Thorn.

"_I almost wish that Eragon was there, then maybe I might be captured. That wouldn't be so bad. Alas, knowing my luck they will either all be as easy to kill as our master predicts, or someone will __have the fortune to kill us." _They flew onwards towards the Varden camp near Feinster, ready to strike as the sun set.

Abcabcabc

The final meeting of the day had just finished and Nasuada was just starting to relax when a soldier burst into her command tent, startling her and making all four of her current bodyguards stiffen and brandish their various weapons menacingly. "My lady, we are under attack from Murtagh! What should we do?"

Luckily, Nasuada kept her wits about her at all times, and immediately answered "Fetch the elves, they are the only ones who stand a chance against such a foe. They will know best how to combat such a threat."

"At once my lady." the soldier said as he stood up and ran out to carry out his orders. Nasuada suppressed a sigh at the news. She had eventually had to tell Jormundur the reason for Eragon's extended absence, and ever since she had told him he had been worrying constantly about an event like this. Though she would, of course, never tell anybody this, she in particular had not looked forwards to such an encounter. The idea of Murtagh as an enemy was still, even after so many months, alien to her, and she often found herself hoping that he was not really loyal to the king, and only bound by spells. But alas, she had no way of knowing, and until then, her duty to the Varden was clear.

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Murtagh and Thorn had sighted the Varden encampment just as the sun set. They had immediately been fired on, but the many wards which surrounded the two deflected all of the arrows cast at them. When Thorn landed at the edge of the encampment, Murtagh had leapt from his back into the small cluster of Varden footsoldiers who had gathered to try to repel him. Thorn took to the wing again to start lazily gliding over the camp, setting everything in sight alight with his fiery breath.

Just before he had left, Murtagh had been approached by the king in the dragonhold. He had elaborated on his instructions. Apparently, there were several elves accompanying the Varden, and Galbatorix had told Murtagh to make them his main targets. When asked how to find them, the king had merely smiled darkly and replied "Why, just kill everything in sight until they turn up." The use of Murtagh's true name meant that this was exactly what he had to do.

The small initial resistance fell quickly to his red blade. More men started poring out of the camp to charge at him. They too soon fell. Slashing open the chest of another soldier Murtagh started looking around for the elves. He hoped they arrived soon, he would prefer not to have to wade his way through the entirety of the Varden forces to find them.

Murtagh glanced at the ten men running at him then and had to give them credit – they knew that they stood next to no chance against him, yet they still fought for their cause, even unto death. A death they were swiftly granted as Murtagh threw his sword in an ark, using magic to guide it into his opponents before summoning it back. Even more men, nearly a hundred this time, started pouring out of the camp and Murtagh cursed. At this point it would seem that the Varden had finally managed to get organised, as he could see the men forming up into proper regiments in preparation to charge. A small cluster of archers at the back fired over the heads of their comrades but any that fell near Murtagh were easily deflected by his wards. Readying himself for a challenging and prolonged fight, Murtagh ran to face their charge head on. _Maybe I'll get lucky and one of them will capture me. Unlikely but what can you do._

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After ten more gruelling minutes of combat, during which Murtagh had repeatedly cursed the man who had given him this fools assignment, he finally spotted one of his targets. _At last! now to get this over with so i can call Thorn and get the hell out of here._ The main force of the Varden, which up until now had been continuously attacking him, suddenly pulled back as the elf moved closer. Looking at the elf more closely, Murtagh's eyes widened slightly as he saw that it was Arya, the elf whom he and Eragon had rescued from Durza. Sighing to himself, Murtagh once again readied himself and fortified himself using energy from the eldunari which were stored in Thorns saddlebags, only just close enough to be worth using. When two more elves ran out to join Arya, Murtagh's eyes widened further, when a further three joined them, slight feelings of panic started to enter his mind. reports had only indicated the presence of two or three elves, six at once would likely be beyond his abilities. However, Murtagh's orders would not let him retreat so easily, and so he had no choice but to stand firm.

The six elves moved into positions to surround him, with Arya and a strange, furred elf in front of him. Arya stepped forwards. "Surrender Murtagh, you are surrounded and don't stand a chance."

"I am afraid that my orders do not permit such actions as surrender. I have no choice in this matter, so don't waste your time trying to convince me. Let's just get this over with.

"Very well." Arya glanced at the other elves as she said "Then you leave us no choice."

Suddenly she charged, with two other elves coming at Murtagh from behind. Instantly there was a flurry of action as Murtagh struggled merely to block the rapid and numerous attacks, which left him little chance of counter-attacking.

Smooth and graceful, yet as quick as an arrow, one of the elves' swords managed to dart past Murtagh's frantic guard. A light scratch appeared on his right arm guard, though the sharp pain he felt suggested that this "scratch" had actually gone all the way through to his flesh. Swiftly healing the cut with a muttered _"Waise Heill__**" **_he looked up just in time to block a strong downwards swing from Arya which she quickly followed with solid kick aimed at his knee in hopes of breaking the complex joint. Murtagh, his sword occupied deflecting a blow from one of the other elves, was forced to use magic to stop the blow, which unfortunately for him cost a significant amount of energy. Unsurprising really, after all, elves were known for the strength of their blows.

Less than four minutes into the battle Murtagh had already used up the energy from two of his five eldunari. The distance between him and thorn, though not huge, meant that their energy was used up more quickly than normal, and at this rate Murtagh would be beaten within another ten minutes at the most. He had been forced to heal numerous small cut and bruises that, while not life threatening, would have slowed him down just enough to give victory to the elves. He himself however had only managed to inflict a few scattered wounds, with one decent slash across the chest to a strange elf with what appeared to be fur and fangs that had still taken only seconds for the elf to heal. Three more elves had arrived and were just standing in the background,waiting. Too many of them in combat at once would only cause them to get in each others way, and they knew this. Their presence, however, did mean that should one of the actively fighting elves tired or be injured beyond their own healing capabilities, another could step in.

All these factors meant that Murtagh now truly believed this particular fight to be a lost cause. He was outnumbered by fighters who were each nearly as powerful as him. Thankfully _or not, _his oaths and orders had given him instructions on what to do in such a situation. If Murtagh ever encountered a situation where continuing to obey instructions would serve no further purpose than to get himself captured or killed, he had been ordered to attempt to flee. This particular order had been designed to prevent him from allowing himself to be captured by the Varden in hopes of escaping Galbatorix's control. "_Thorn!"_

"_Yes?" _the dragon called telepathically, looking up from his position near the other side of the Varden camp where he had been spending his time torching tents at random. The only thing of note to have happened during this time was the arrival of three elves, bringing the new total to twelve. The elves had attempted to stop him but after knocking one of them flying about fifty feet into the air with his tail then setting him alight as he returned to earth the other two, surviving, elves had left him alone.

"_I can't hold them much longer, we need to get out of here before I run out of eldunari, our damn orders wont let us do otherwise." _Absent-mindedly incinerating a few Varden soldiers with the bravery and stupidity to attack him, Thorn agreed before launching himself into the air and gliding over to where Murtagh was still being attacked by the elves.

As he landed, knocking aside several foolish soldier who had been watching the fight scene, Thorn sent a roaring fireball at the ground near the elves, knocking all the combatants, bar Murtagh who had been bracing himself, having known what the dragon planned. Murtagh then swiftly moved over and jumped straight up into Thorn's saddle, before Thorn jumped in the air and took fight, heading back towards Urubaen. Galbatorix would not be happy with their defeat, and this knowledge just made Murtagh wish even more that there was some way to break the hold the king had over him. _But until that happens, I'll just have to do the best I can. I _will_ survive, no matter what. Even if it does mean serving this mad king. Anything to survive._

**Once again I humbly beg your forgiveness for leaving this for so long but I think I should be able to do a chapter every week or two for now. As I said, I am feeling mildly depressed at the moment (no particular reason) but I didn't want to risk not updating much longer, as there would have been a chance I wouldn't have returned for some time.**

**Hope you don't mind the chapter too much, Racket30 **


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